A Far Away Lightning
by Marteler La Mer
Summary: Re-L is trying to distance herself from Vincent in hopes of pushing a certain memory out of her head. However he has made a bigger impact on her than she realized. It's a teeny oneshot. Rated M just to be safe.


I'm in my element when it comes to depressing stories. I don't know why, maybe it has to do with all the sad music that I listen to. I swear I'm not a depressing person! There seems to be alot more depth and feeling and description that can be put into a person's state of mind when they're upset or lonely. When you're happy you focus on one thing: what's making you happy. When you're sad your mind is torn in all sorts of different directions. It interests me. I don't like seeing these three sad though...Especially Pino. But I wanted to write about what might go on in Re-L's head when she and Vincent argue. Cause they do that alot. Well, she yells at him, but whatever.

Anyway, I'm on number 2! It's just a oneshot. Enjoy! No free beverages, though. You'll have to pay extra for that.

* * *

Pino sat in the corner playing a new song on her instrument, darting her eyes back and forth between Vincent and I as the ugly situation in the Rabbit unfolded. Her presence made this so much harder for some reason.

"You can't make me sleep outside! I'd freeze to death!" Vincent yelled as his face crinkled up in confusion.

"Well you're not sleeping in here anymore! Go sleep in the supply area or the kitchen! Just not near me!" I fixed my gaze on his, hands akimbo and eyes unwavering, waiting for him to give me the usual sigh before he stalked off.

Instead Vincent gave me an angry look and snatched his sleeping bag off of the floor, moving it towards his new area. Pino hopped off the crate she had been sitting on and grabbed at his clothes. "Vince, why are you guys fighting," she asked as she looked up at him. His resolution seemed to crumble when he was around her. The furious expression that he had softened as he looked at her innocent face.

"We always argue, Pino," he said with a smile. "This one is just a little worse than usual. Don't worry." He crouched and patted her head. She puffed her cheeks out. I could tell she didn't believe him, much less appreciated the fact that he was lying to her. "Wanna help me move my stuff?"

She beamed at him. "Sure!" The Autoreiv ran over to his usual sleeping space, picked up what must have been twenty pounds of his worthless junk, and bounced happily behind him into the supply area. I stood there, defiant in my decision to be left alone. The two of them made me sick. Living in their own little bubble of happiness and denial; not wanting to face with the harsh reality and consequences of the worthless trip we were on.

I couldn't deceive myself anymore. My distractions from the ceaseless frustration, problems, and boredom that I faced on a daily basis were becoming few and far between. I found myself falling farther and farther down the spiral of my unraveling mind. Trying to shut the world away wasn't working, and on a trip like this you can't avoid your problems and insecurities. Counting food supply, cleaning the ship, fixing my make-up ten times a day, and playing with the Autoreiv had all become dull. Dissecting my own life was all I had left.

I would try to write about it in my journal, but the amount of topics grew until I eventually ran out of pages. I would go outside to steer the Rabbit, imagining that Iggy was next to me. I'd talk about my dilemmas with him, but that only created responses in my head that I_ wanted_ to hear. I tried to keep the image of the old Iggy alive. Before he became infected, which was all my fault. He was faithful and caring but I had taken it for granted. I rationalized Imaginary Iggy as my way of treating him with respect in death. His jovial voice wasn't there to respond, however, so it made the realization that he was gone even more painful.

After a while me and Vincent's argument had become more than a game of lets-see-who-will-give-in-first. I watched a change happen in him throughout the next few days. It was like he lost all compassion. The light in his eyes had gone. He seemed disinterested in solving the mystery of the Proxy anymore. Now we were just floating around in a wasteland with no purpose whatsoever. I had given up everything to come with him only to have it dissolve into absolutely nothing.

Pino began to ignore me. She never liked me, I knew that. I was always mean to her to begin with, but she blamed me for Vincent's solitude. He didn't feel like playing games with her much anymore. His denial would cause her to cry sometimes, making me realize just how real the Cogito virus could be. Vincent would sometimes do things to make her feel better, but not always. In any case, no verbal interaction was had between me and either of the people on the ship. I made lunch by myself, I steered the ship by myself, I did _everything_ by myself in silence.

A dead silence.

The twilight brought time for recollection and drifting. Alone by myself in a room with only a small piece of light coming from the porthole a few feet away. I felt like I was in a prison that I had created myself, emotionally handcuffed to this place like an insect stuck on a sheet of flypaper. Vincent had come along and plucked my wings off already, destroying my will to leave.

The line began to blur between who was right and who was wrong. I'd say I was somewhat damaged by my own immature attempt to push him and what had happened away. Over our time in the Rabbit my feelings had become fragile when we were in the same vicinity. His infectious temptation would make memories flood back of the day when the world went away. All the love he could give me was brutally killed by the teeth of my violent heart. We had made something that I was convinced he and I could never get back now; a warm place among all this desolate, bone-chilling cold.

I'd stay awake during the night, scribbling in the last few pages of journal or staring at the hallway that Vincent resided down until sleep began to wear out my mind like cheese on a grater. I didn't write any of my dreams in my journal and I certainly didn't speak of them aloud to my imaginary Iggy, even though it's not like he could have spilled them to anyone. It was still hard to keep it to myself and having nobody to talk about it with. I didn't have dreams that often, but when I did they were about Vincent. Always. I didn't dream about Iggy anymore. Vincent was on my mind all the time. He clouded my vision and my senses. Old senses that after two and a half weeks were all I could think of on this terrible adventure.

Vincent had managed to give me happiness, albeit for a brief period. He gave me a taste of his affection and I denied it as if it was a dish of bad food at a restaurant. If this was any other situation I could have walked away from him and forgotten it ever happened. For some reason unbeknownst to myself I couldn't. I could have shot him with my last FP round, buried him, and turned the ship around to go back to Romdeau. That Re-L has been gone for quite a while now, though. She's been replaced by someone I didn't recognize. An indecisive, moody sap. I was a shell of my former self.

That gun was in my holster right now. I could open the door, walk out onto the deck and shoot him when he least expects it. Standing in the doorway I came up with quite a few ways as to how I would be able to kill him. My body just didn't seem to want to execute any of the scenarios that I created. _Could_ I have done it myself in the first place? My hand wavered as I tried to move it towards the holster and it jiggled the gun as I pulled it out. I stared at it in my hand, rolling it over and rubbing the trigger a few times.

The door opened and Vincent appeared before me. He looked at me and then down at the weapon that was in my hand. His eyes widened and he took a step back. I watched him from underneath my hair as a gust of freezing wind blew throughout the cabin. I grabbed his hands, placing the gun in them.

"Blow me away."

The gun fell to the floor with a loud clang.

Amidst the undoing of what seemed like millions of belts and buckles, a small pool of clothes began collecting at our feet. A sock with a hole in it went to the right; a black boot landed with a thud onto the floor. That self-destructive feeling I had in my head had left me and was replaced by a tingling sensation. Like lightning was flowing through my veins from the tips of my toes all the way to my brain. Familiar hands ran the course of my body and hot breath was in my ear. The saltiness of the sweat on his skin lingered on my lips. I saw shadows playing on the wall in the sliver of light that lit the room, but I couldn't make them out into anything for once. I roamed around the expanse of smooth skin underneath my fingertips. I had no more pages in my journal to write about any of this, and I didn't think once about sharing these thoughts with Imaginary Iggy. The man above me already knew about it. I closed my eyes, feeling his soft hair fall against my face, erasing every single one of my manifested problems.

Our lips connected.

Rain began to pelt against the outside of the Rabbit.

And my gun continued to lay on the floor across the room, FP shell still unspent.

* * *

I've said it before that Re-L fascinates me. She acts one way, but what is she REALLY thinking? You never know. I find it so easy to write about her emotions for that single reason. My inspiration for this story came from a bunch of songs that I had listened to at work from Nine Inch Nails (because he's freakin' epic) and Deftones (because the lead singer has a sexy voice, yeah baby). If it disappointed you in the end, sorry. I always was a weakling when it came to writing about teh smex. This took ALOT of effort on my part, really. Isn't that sad? Now REVIEW IT, DAMMIT!


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